The Mildewed Notebook
by Twinings
Summary: Once upon a time, someone traded favors with the Joker. She did not get the better end of the deal...[Notebook Five]
1. Chapter 1

The Disclaimer: I don't own Batman. Or his villains. But I actually do own most of these. Especially Liss, whose story began in The Purple Covered Notebook.

So...everyone, this is for you.

* * *

The Mildewed Notebook

Or

Riddle Me This

Gotham City at night is a dark and depressing place. I've never loved any place more.

Gotham City's sewers at night are…well. Have you ever smelled a paper mill on a summer afternoon?

And it's wet. And icky.

Boss, I once promised to do you a favor in exchange for a little information. That was more than a year ago, and I notice your eyes and ears haven't brought me a single snippet.

I've always had a thing for you, you nutjob. A creepy, don't-touch-me kind of thing, but a thing nonetheless. Otherwise I wouldn't keep coming when you call.

I liked working for you. I really did. You gave me my start, and I owe you a lot. But when you send me underground to slog through the sewers, offer to pay me with the promise of a smile, and won't even tell me why, I have to wonder if I still think you're worth it.

The Joker's girl is all grown up, boss. Once upon a time, this would have been good enough.

Now, I think you'd better get me some results.

--

Well, boss, I've been wandering around down here all night, and still no sign of the Riddler. What do you want with him, anyway? I get the impression that you two have never gotten along, and I notice that partnership never quite got off the ground, not entirely because of Batman's interference. But I don't think you want to kill him. You wouldn't waste me on something so mundane.

Not that you wouldn't pull a stunt like that. But I don't think you'd waste _me_. Sacrifice me, maybe. But not waste your chance to get a solid day's work out of me.

When I was young and stupid, I actually believed that you cared about me. And you knew it, jerk. You read all my notebooks and played me for a fool. Funny thing is, I don't really care. I like you as much now as I ever did. Maybe more, now that you're not trying to make me fall in love with you.

Working with you was fun, boss. I've missed you. You made me smile, when you weren't making me cry in the dark. All this time on my own, I've had the freedom to do things my way, but it's been (you know, I hate to say this) lonely. When I tried going back to the real world, all my friends had moved on and forgotten me. When Mark came along, I was honestly happy, but that didn't last. I should have known it wouldn't last. God, after Mark I should have just gone back to you. Madness would have been easier, but I was scared of you. And I thought I could make it on the straight and narrow. When I tried working for the other side, I learned so much from Batman, Superman, and Wonder Woman, including some secrets you'd probably kill for. Secrets I won't share. Ever.

I also learned that the satisfaction of a job well done is nothing next to the thrill of victory when I'm by your side.

That's the real reason I came back to you. I thought my favor would involve working with you, boss, not sloshing through toilet water all by my lonesome.

Sometimes I think I hate you.

Ah, what the hell. You're never going to read _this_ notebook. I'm carrying it through the sewers, for God's sake. Even I don't want to touch it.

--

Well, I've found something down here at last. A corpse. Not the Riddler. A little sleazeball named Johnny Wilkins. Worked for the boss for a while. Last I heard from him, he was in the Penguin's gang.

I had a little trouble recognizing him. His face was bashed in, every bone in his body broken, chunks of flesh torn right out of him. They almost looked like animal bites, but an animal didn't search his pockets and move the body away from wherever he was killed. (And I'm assuming that's what happened, since there was no blood spray, and no pool of redness underneath him. The way he looked, there must have been a lot of blood.)

What the hell did this?


	2. Chapter 2

Boss, if I ever make it back to the surface, I'm going to kill you.

You sent me down here with these things, whatever they are. Why? If the Riddler came down here, he's a dead man.

I think I saw one just now. Hardly more than a shadow and a scuttle of claws on stone. It didn't notice me. I think.

I can hear them moving in the dark.

I've gotten turned around. Where's the exit? How do I get out of here?

Just waiting for them to pass me by. Just waiting.

If I die down here, I'm going to haunt your ass.

--

Came on a nest of them. They were…eating.

I have two new bits of information.

One: these things are shadows. With teeth. And claws.

Two: they like salad. Poison Ivy has a stake in this, or did, an hour ago. She's not going to be happy about what they've done to her plant-person.

Is she after the Riddler, too? If so, why? If not, why did she send one of her babies down here?

What are these things? Where did they come from?

Boss, do you know the answers to any of my questions? _Any_ of them? I'm starting to get a little miffed. We've got to learn to open the lines of communication.

Here's a good question: what the hell am I still doing here?

--

Hear them.

--

Found someone else down here. Someone alive.

He's a kid. Maybe fifteen, sixteen years old. George Rickman. New muscle for Scarface. I never liked that little termite farm.

The kid's down here on some kind of initiation. It seems a lot of masks are after Edward Nygma, for a lot of different reasons. Scarface figures there must be phat lewt to be had, so he sent the kid on a little recon mission. The other hunters would lead him to the Riddler, and the Riddler would lead him to the dough.

Only he hadn't figured on those things eating everything that moves.

I know everyone's heard the stories about mutated albino alligators in the sewers. At first I thought this might have something to do with Killer Croc, but according to George, my first impression of these things was right. They're only shadows, intangible except for their teeth and claws. I've never seen anything like this.

No, I take that back. When I was six, I had this recurring nightmare about a monster chasing me through a dark cave. When I tried to fight it off, my hands passed right through it. But then it picked me up and started cutting me to pieces.

I had some damn vivid nightmares when I was a kid.

Well. There are more people down here looking for our pal, Eddie. George has promised to help me find the others. Something tells me nobody's going to find the Riddler and get out of here flying solo.

I figure we can divvy up the corpse and make all our bosses happy.

--

You know who's always kind of creeped me out? Two-Face.

Apparently, he and the Riddler wanted to hit the same bank. Riddler got there first. Should he take his revenge or let the guy go? The Riddler lost that coin toss. So would he follow him into the sewers, or have a couple of henchmen bring him out into the harsh light of day?

Enter Ned and Ted. A freaky pair of twins if ever I've seen one. Ned is blond and blue-eyed. Ted has dark hair and brown eyes. Other than that, they're practically identical. They have this disconcerting habit of speaking together and finishing each other's sentences. They must be Two-Face's henchman poster child…children…guys.

They're tough guys, probably very good at what they do, topside, but down here, they're as lost as I am.

I really, really want to go home. But I'm not quitting. And neither are they.

I'm already thinking about a double cross.

--

Freak convention.

We saw a guy in a bright green bowler hat wandering around like a zombie. I tried to stop him, but he walked right past me, like I wasn't even there.

I tried to stop him.

He walked right into a group of them. He didn't stop until they ripped off his face.

The hat turned him into a zombie. I'm guessing the Mad Hatter sent him. As for why he'd want the Riddler…revenge, maybe? Riddler just escaped Arkham about a month ago. The Mad Hatter nearly escaped along with him, but the guards caught up with him just outside the gates, and the Riddler left him behind.

I've seen what that kind of thing can do to a friendship.

Well, so much for that guy. Georgie says he's seen one more walking around down here. Let's hope this one still has higher brain function.


	3. Chapter 3

We're taking a little break. I can hear the creatures, but I can't see them. They seem to like the smaller side tunnels better. We may feel exposed out here in the open, but I think it's the safest place.

You know, I really liked that zombie's hat. I found another one just like it floating down the tunnel a few minutes ago. The Riddler must be close. I hope they let me take the head. Joker would like that.

If there is a head.

--

Mother of God. The time is 5:07 and the Riddler is alive. He looks like he's been run over by a lawnmower and beaten in the face with a spiked club, but he's alive.

There was someone with him when we found him, a chick a couple of years younger than me. I saw her first, sitting there at the end of the tunnel with nothing but a book of matches.

"Hey," I said. She nearly jumped out of her skin. "Relax. We aren't going to hurt you. Okay?" She nodded.

"You're here for the Riddler, aren't you? There was this other guy…those things ate him…"

"Do you know where to find the Riddler?" I asked.

"He's right here. I've been keeping them away from him, but I can't get him out of here by myself." She stepped to the side, giving us a look at the pitiful little bundle of misery she had been shielding.

He was lying on the cold stone floor, curled up in a loose little ball, shivering and barely conscious. Poor little guy. I'm not saying I've never beaten a guy senseless and left him for dead, but this was just harsh.

From what I can tell, he got in a fight with someone topside. That guy, whoever he was, beat the hell out of him. I mean really just smashed his face in, like the time the Incredible Hulk fought Helen Keller. Okay, so that never actually happened. But if it had, I imagine it would have turned out something like this.

So someone beat him and dumped him in the sewer. And then the creatures got to him.

And somehow, this mousy little woman found him and chased away the monsters that can't be touched?

Hmm. I knelt down to take a better look at him.

His silly green suit had been torn to shreds, and he looked like he had lost a lot of blood—and when I say a lot, I mean a _lot_—but I thought he would live if we could get him out of there in time.

"Edward Nygma?" I said, carefully touching his shoulder.

"Hnnn…"

"Oh, he can't talk. Broken jaw," she explained. Ned and Ted laughed.

"It must be killing him…"

"…not being able to make his smart-ass comments."

"Oh, shut up, you assholes." I opened up my bag—of course I was the only one with the sense to bring any supplies for a weekend sewer trip. I covered the Riddler with my camping blanket. "I'm Liss, representing the Joker." I almost told her to call me Chuckles. I have so many names I could have given. But these days I just want to be Liss. "This is Ned and Ted, for Two-Face, and George, for Scarface."

"Lexy," said the other woman. She didn't offer to tell us who she was working for, and I didn't ask.

"How did you manage to drive those things off?" I asked instead.

"They're afraid of fire."

"No way," said George. "You mean you scared those things off with just a couple of matches?"

"Actually, I've been playing Dragon Breath, but I ran out of tequila." I always loved that trick. Last time I tried it, though, I ended up setting my own shirt on fire. Props to a girl with skills, I guess.

"Did your boss send you down here with nothing but matches and tequila?"

She shushed me.

"They know I'm out of alcohol. They'll be coming back soon."

A splash, the sound of claws on stone, the creepy feeling that something eyeless is watching you…simple paranoia, or a sign that the things are here? No way to tell until it's too late.

Lexy ripped a few pages out of my notebook to start a fire. Turned me into a twitchy mess, I'll tell you. I mean, nobody touches my babies.

My maternal instincts are a little wonky these days.

I'm a little pissed off that we're burning _my_ stuff, drinking _my_ nice clean bottled water, eating _my_ food. It's damn unprofessional of them to come down here completely unprepared. The poor little Riddler can't open his mouth to eat or drink or speak. The best he can do is point and grunt, and every time he does that, he gets this look like he's about to cry. He's more alert than he was when we found him. Too bad. Poor guy's scared out of his mind. Not that I blame him.

Ned and Ted won't quit hassling him. I'm starting to really dislike those guys. If I have to plug them when we get back up top, I think I can do it without losing too much sleep.

Speaking of sleep, we're all exhausted from traipsing around in the sewer for hours or days on end, and we're at least a mile from the nearest hole big enough for us to crawl out of, so we've decided to spend the night here on this sheltered little piece of dry land.

Of course, I get first watch.

So I'm just sitting here, watching shadows dance just out of reach. I'm trying to keep Eddie calm.

Yeah, I want to call him Eddie. What of it? We're all going to have to get pretty chummy while we're down here.

Until we get up to the surface and it occurs to everyone that a man is a lot harder than a corpse to split four ways.

--

Eddie (can I call you that?)

I just realized that just because you can't talk doesn't mean you can't communicate. Are you still able to read and write?

_water_

_please_

I hope some of that got in you.

Do you know who these other guys are?

Me neither. I don't know how much any of them can be trusted, so let's try not to attract their attention, okay?

The kid doesn't want you. He just came down here to find out what the rest of us were up to. The twins are going to try to take you to Two-Face. I think your chances of escaping him are about 50/50, and you don't strike me as that kind of gambler. As for the girl, I don't know who she's working for or what they want with you, but I'm sure you realize it's safer to stick with the devil you know.

You do know my devil, the Joker. He didn't tell me exactly why he wants you, but I know he doesn't want to just kill you. So my question is, when we get out of here, are you going to make things easy for me, or would you rather take your chances with the other guys?

_why should you never play poker in the jungle_

Cheetahs? You mean me? Or them? Or my boss? All of the above?

I promise, I can guarantee your safety at least until we reach the Joker's hideout. I think that's more than you'll get from anyone else. I can't really give you anything more than a promise, but hey, I used to be cool with Batman. Superman, too. Is that good enough?

You don't look happy. Do you know something I don't? What does the boss want with you?

_how do you get an elephant into a safe_

I don't get it.

Can you give me something more than riddles?

_how do you keep an idiot in suspense_

You'll tell me later? Fine. Hold onto your bargaining chip. I respect that.

But I want you to know there's nothing that's going to stop me from taking you to my boss, whether you make it easy for me or not.

_an eye for an eye_

What? If you don't start making sense, I'm going to quit handing over my pen.

An eye for an eye leaves everyone blind? Are you saying the Joker doesn't know anything? Can't you just tell me?

Make some damn sense!

Relax. It's okay.

_seven in a single blow_

I see.

--

Poor man. I didn't mean to scare him. I know he's been through a lot. But that riddle crap is just irritating.

Seven in a single blow. I know that's from a story I read as a kid. Or maybe a cartoon? I can't remember.

Is it a reference to the sinking of the _Turnabout?_ There were seven survivors, including me.

_Turnabout_, setting out on its maiden voyage, pride of the Colossus Line. They started calling it the new _Titanic_, afterward.

Wasn't there something about a giant in that story?

Little Riddler, do you know something I don't know? Or do you just want me to think you do?

I guess this is my conundrum. If he does know something about my boy, and I hand him over to the boss, God only knows when the information will trickle down to me.

Then again, do I really want to double cross the boss? His indulgence only goes so far, even with his darlin' protégé. This time last year, I never would have dared think about it.

I sense this is going to end with someone not wanting to be my friend anymore.

--

Edward Nygma, you clever little bastard.

--

Fuck. Twins. Kill them.

--

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.. Shit.

I'M WADING THROUGH SHIT HERE! This sucks! This is _not_ worth it. And if I ever catch those fucking twins, I'm going to kill them.

I knew it was a mistake to go to sleep last night. Fucking Ned and Ted took the Riddler and left us.

You know what woke me up? Claws on the back of my neck. Bitch!

We ran for it. Had to leave behind all my supplies, except my notebook and pen, of course. Can't leave behind the essentials.

Those fucktards are going to pay me back. With a little interest.

--

I hear screaming.


	4. Chapter 4

Damn! Found Ned. Or was it Ted?

He went running past us, bleeding and screaming. Gave me a reason to smile.

George is the stealthy type, so we sent him ahead to scout.

And now I hear more screaming.

--

Oh, it was just Ted. Or was it Ned?

He ran back from the other direction, begging us to help him. I laughed in his face.

Lexy gave him a hug.

"We can't just let those things get him," she said.

"You're right. Of course not." I grabbed him by the collar to get his attention. "What happened to the Riddler?"

"They got Ned!" (He might have said Ted. He sounded kind of funny with his nose missing and all.)

"The Riddler," I repeated.

"Left him in a tunnel. Those things were all over him. He's dead." Disgusted, I threw him down in the sewer water.

"Come on, Lexy. Let's go get what's left of him."

--

Wish we knew where we were going. Getting lost down here - not fun.

--

Found George. Good kid.

He saw Ted or Ned get eaten by the creatures. No sign of the Riddler.

He asked what happened to the other twin.

_"No! Please! You can't just leave me here! They're coming!"_

Big grin. I didn't share. Might as well keep one of us innocent and happy.

Lexy won't talk to me now. Bleeding heart. I can't imagine any of the masks hiring a twerp like her. So what is she here for?

Break's over.

--

Eagle Eyes found our Eddie. Alive? Lying in a side tunnel, creatures swarming over him. Whatever they're doing to him, they're doing it slowly. I hear crying.

How do we fight them off without matches?

--

_bait_

--

Eddie's right. These things are smart. They know that the only reason so many tasty snacks have come down here is because we're all after the Riddler.

The creatures kept him alive for us. They didn't even hurt him this time, just swarmed over him. Used him. Bait.

He won't stop shaking now. I'm afraid he won't make it if we don't get him to a hospital soon.

Not much chance of that, though. They have us trapped in here now.

I wondered why intangible creatures would be afraid of fire. Why they would stick to the side tunnels. Why they would hide out in the sewers instead of attacking Gotham City on the surface.

Then I realized what they really are: shadows. Shadows! My God, man! It wasn't the fire they were afraid of, it was the light!

In case you can't tell, this is my angry face.

Think how much effort we could have saved, if we had just been less duh in the beginning. We could have gotten out of here by now. Ned and Ted might still be dead, but at least I would have made it quick and painless. Lexy and George wouldn't be half so traumatized, poor Eddie would probably be in some nice warm hospital bed—that or laughing at the inside of a dumpster, and honestly I think either one would be better for his mood than this shit—and I could be going back to work or spending time with those friends of mine who still remember my name (although even the Joker can't always keep up with my name changes) or maybe even grabbing some closure for that thing that still makes my ovaries go all "Rah!"

Seriously, right now my mothering instinct is screaming at me to pick up Eddie, cradle him in my lap, hug him, love him, and call him Wubby. And do the same for George. And have a baby of my own and do the same for him.

What's wrong with me? I've never been this bad with the mommy urges before. Is it just because I'm afraid of dying?

Agh.

We're under the oldest part of town. These sewers have been around since before Gotham was a city. For all I know, they could have been built by the Romans.

We're holed up in an access tunnel that dead-ends way below street level. The fire that destroyed the old city sealed off this part of the system completely. I don't know how we wandered into it.

Between the four of us, we have a keychain flashlight, a clip-on reading light, a glow-in-the-dark digital watch, and a single loose match. I am not impressed with our chances for survival.

No food. No water. Bad for us, worst for Eddie. He really won't last much longer if he doesn't replace what he's lost. I don't want to think about how long it's been since the last time he ate. A couple of days, at least. I know he's feeling it. Dehydration worries me more, though. Not that it really makes much difference. Those things are going to get us as soon as the batteries run out. Eddie can't run from them. He can barely walk, even with help. None of us are strong enough to carry him.

He's only going to slow us down and get us all killed. A smart person would just leave him behind. But I never said I was a smart one.

--

Lexy is wonderful. Ten minutes and she's got Eddie lying calm and still. No shaking, no tears, no panic. Just calm. And she did this just by stroking his hair and humming a lullaby.

I asked her if she was a nurse. She said no, she just manages a coffee shop. I asked her if she had any children. No, briefly married, recently divorced, no spawn. I asked if she was a meta, maybe with some kind of hypnotic powers. No, just an ordinary woman.

Finally, I came right out and asked her how she got him to trust her, how she knew what to do.

"I care," she said. "They can tell."

I care. She makes it sound like I'm with Ned and Ted. I really do want to help the little bugger.

I wonder who "they" are.

--

Lexy is singing to the Riddler. I'm frantically writing an account that no one will ever read. George is over in the corner, catatonic. I think it's safe to say that we're all scared.

We should be making plans. I'm writing in my notebook. My notebook! That's supposed to help me focus.

But the only thing I can focus on is the fact that I'm probably going to die this time. I'm actually going to fail. I never fail. Never

Except with Mark. I failed him, didn't I?

Shut up, stupid. Whiny little dumbass bitch, stop crying. Not here, not in front of everyone. Focus on the words. Watch the ink flow out of your pen, and remember what you ARE. You're over that depressed emo bullshit. You can't let yourself slide back that way. You are not that weak. You are not a whiny little bitch hiding your face in the Bat's cape. Grow the fuck up.

Take care of yourself. Take care of your buddies. Do it, this time. Don't sit there crying in fear and praying for rescue. You're no damsel in distress. Get up off your lazy ass and save yourself.

I mean it. Quit stalling.

Tra la la la la.

I'm scared.

--

Okay, Plan A. We send stealthy young George for help. And trust him to care enough to save us. Hmmm…

--

Outcome: dismal failure. His screaming just died away. Brave young scout, I salute you.

Plan B.

Step one: come up with a Plan B.

--

Lights dying. Plan B: run like blue blazes.


	5. Chapter 5

Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuckity fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Not good yoko nai dame da ne xorosho mal muy malo meioh good as-sakwa li-llah.

Not fucking good.

--

Have you ever felt a moment of absolute fear?

When I feel fear, or anything else, really, I turn it into anger. That's what these notebooks are for. That's why I come off as so self-abusive when things are going bad. Because anger can be channeled into something useful.

It didn't work this time.

So we picked up our little wounded Riddler and carried him between us as we ran, screaming, through the sewers, hoping for the best.

What the fuck kind of plan is that? I may have been training for years, I may be in the best shape of my life, but I know I'm no good for running and I never will be. My damn knee. Still hurts like hell.

The things followed us, but even though they could have caught us no problem, they didn't. Why? There must have been a reason. What were they planning? Why would they let us go?

(Keep reading, boss. You'll laugh when you find out.)

It was night. Late. No one around, no one to notice two semi-hysterical women dragging a very battered Riddler out of the sewer.

Gotham City at night is lit up brighter than Christmas.

Except in the case of a power outage, which was the only thought on my mind when I called the boss and politely requested a ride home and some napalm.

When I got done, Lexy and Eddie were gone. That was a moment of fear and anger for me. They just left me there to face my boss, who does not tolerate failure. I mean, I was even going to engineer a daring escape for them. You know, if it turned out to be necessary.

Too late for regrets now, though.

The boss showed. Saw I was alone. Was pissed.

Flooded the sewers with napalm anyway because I swore it was really, really, really important.

Blew up a chunk of Gotham. Batman will not be pleased.

And as I should have predicted, the Joker read my notebook, realized I was ready to betray him, and said the five words I've been dreading for years:

"Flappie, you're no fun anymore."

So he filled me full of laughing gas and threw me out of the helicopter.

Now, the fall didn't kill me because I landed in an open dumpster. Gross.

And the laughing gas didn't kill me because…deus ex machina? It had no effect on me.

Oh, don't worry. There's a perfectly reasonable explanation.

--

Constant interruptions. No privacy.

Don't get me wrong. I'm glad those kids who saw me fall thought to bring me to this clinic. If they hadn't, who knows how long it would have taken me to find my old pals.

Good old Lexy brought Eddie straight here, to a free clinic that doesn't ask too many questions. She must not have expected me to end up in the same place, judging by her reaction when she saw me.

She ran.

I like to think of myself as a good judge of character, and this one didn't strike me as the type who would abandon a guy to his fate just to save her own skin. So I knew if I found Eddie, eventually I would be seeing her again.

Poor Eddie. Finally, he's safe. Sleeping like a baby. I am glad I had a hand in his rescue. I'm glad he's going to make a full recovery.

The same can't be said of some of the others who have been pouring in here tonight. Everyone is frightened and angry and out to get the Joker for blowing up their city. This is something I'll feel tormented about later. Right now, I'm busy.

Lexy came back to Eddie and saw me sitting with him.

"I'm not going to hurt him, you know," I said.

"This place is seriously understaffed. Want to help?"

We presented ourselves to the doctors and were assigned to assist Dr. Thompkins. Neither of us has any medical training, but hands are hands, I guess.

"My boss wasn't very happy when he found me," I said as we washed our hands.

"What's your greatest fear?" she asked. I didn't see what that had to do with anything. Then she asked me how much I knew about the Scarecrow.

So. For years, my greatest fear has been to die with a smile on my face. Not an uncommon fear for people working with my boss.

Lexy doesn't work for the Scarecrow, but she knows him, and she knows his fear toxin. How he likes to develop new strains and test them.

We actually got caught up in this by accident. Isn't that just a fucking RIOT?

Oh, I'm laughing my ass off, here.

There must have been _something_ down there. Something killed George and the twins. Something cut Eddie up pretty bad.

But there were no fucking shadow creatures.

I think…I am extremely pissed off. I have a bone to pick with this Scarecrow.


End file.
